—beginning with a line by Keetje Kuipers The unspeakable spoken and spoken until it becomes bladed ball, burning star in your throat, spit toward dark. A tattered eyeless doll’s
Sunrise on the Atlantic. Birds untangle from trees, houses coming into view, rail tracks, sand and gravel, the blue depot. The coyote is back
After “Fog” by Ruth Madievsky slinking its way across screens, grain slowly swallowing the light. Static over skin, the shiver carrying a cold rush